


Fade to Gray

by KairouWatoshimi



Category: Hollywood U: Rising Stars
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 11:56:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4434584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KairouWatoshimi/pseuds/KairouWatoshimi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snapshots of a day in the life of Thomas Hunt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fade to Gray

**Author's Note:**

> **Angst ahead. You guys insisted. But no worries, it’s not as angsty as I had originally thought it would be.**

Thomas wasn’t usually one to drink coffee—he preferred the subtle taste of tea—but after a long week of lecturing, the bitter taste of the caffeinated drink was all he could think about. So instead of heading straight home after classes, Thomas drove an extra fifteen minutes to his favorite coffeehouse.

The delicious aroma of coffee immediately washed over him as soon as he stepped foot into the small coffeehouse. He stepped up to the counter, his eyes on the large display menu hanging on the wall behind it despite already knowing what he wanted to order.

“Welcome to Autumn Café,” an unfamiliar female barista greeted brightly. “How many I help you?”

“Hot black coffee,” he replied. “Large.” Thomas wasn’t sure what it was about this particular café but it had the ability to make even something as simple as black coffee taste downright mouthwatering.

“Coming right up,” she said, nodding to another barista behind her. “That’ll be three seventy-seven. Anything else, sir?”

Squashing down the urge to snap something along the lines of, “If I _wanted_ something else, I would have said something,” Thomas only shook his head in response before pulling out his wallet. He knew that he didn’t really care but he still couldn’t help but wonder what happened to the old barista; the one that not only knew what he wanted but also knew not to ask him questions afterwards.

Then again, Thomas realized that it had been weeks since he last visited, no doubt she had found a better job. He sighed quietly, suddenly feeling tired in a way he couldn’t explain; for the first time in a while, Thomas actually felt his age. All around him, life was moving on; people were getting new jobs, meeting new people, making new friends and he...

He...

He was at a standstill.

* * *

 

_“Professor Hunt?”_

_Thomas looked up from his phone and was not surprised to see Jane standing in front of him. He knew her voice anywhere and for a brief second, Thomas wondered how appropriate that was._

_He immediately squashed the thought down._

_“Jane,” he greeted because he was unsure of what else to say._

_If it was anyone else, he wouldn’t be having this problem. Old colleagues would try and talk him into coming out of retirement, current ones would ask him about his classes, his students would tell him how much they admire him and he’ll respond with a blunt comment and send them on their way. Jane, however..._

_Jane was an enigma; he never knew what to expect from her. Sometimes she’ll seem like she’s finally respecting his position as a professor and other times, it’s like she thinks she’s the professor._

_Her smile widened. “Or can I call you Thomas now, since I’ve graduated and everything?”_

_“Don’t do that,” he replied flatly even though he could feel his heart quicken at her words—at the sound of his name on her tongue._

_She laughed._

_Thomas watched her as she pulled the seat across from him out and sat down. He knew he probably should say something to stop her but couldn’t find it within himself to. Seeing her now, seeing the curve of her cheek, the spark in her gaze, the tilt of her lips, he realized how much he had missed her._

_“So,” Jane said, placing down her cup of coffee before gracefully rearranging herself into a more comfortable position. “How have you been? Your students still giving your nightmares?”_

_Fighting the twitch in his lips, Thomas leaned back against his seat and took a sip of his own coffee. “Old students too, if you can believe it,” he intoned as dryly as possible._

_Jane pursed her lips and glared mockingly at him for a moment before breaking out into a wide smile. “Well, I’m certainly glad you’re still as insulting as ever.” She brightened up and leaned towards him in excitement. “Oh! Did you know? I was offered the lead role in_ Fading Gray.”

_He knew._

Of course _he knew. He followed all his promising students’ careers as closely as possible; Jane’s especially. And not_ just _because of her potential either, but he didn’t mention that._

_As she chattered on excitedly about the upcoming movie, eyes bright, hands gesturing, smile beaming, Thomas closed his eyes and allowed himself to take in the sweet sound of her voice. He was familiar with every rise in tone, every dip, every pause._

_It was almost as if they had never parted._

* * *

 

Thomas stared at the car in front of him in annoyance, his index finger tapping the steering wheel in a restless, rhythmic manner. He should have known traffic was going to be bad—especially on a late Friday afternoon—but the call of coffee was too tempting. _Next time,_ he thought. Next time he was just going to make some himself.

This was ridiculous.

The idiot in the car behind honked their car horn at him; the sudden, loud noise almost making him jump in surprise. Thomas glared at the side view mirror, wondering where the brainless idiot thought he could go; it wasn’t like he could run the truck in front of him over.

* * *

 

_“I should have just stayed at home,” Jane said, her voice a nagging whine. “You know, we never have these kinds of problems where I’m from.”_

_“Of course you didn’t,” he agreed. “Your hometown has a population of three hundred; it barely even have cars.”_

_She glared at him in mock annoyance. “Whatever,” she grumbled. Then: “Wanna play poker or something?”_

_“I’m_ driving.”

_“We’re not moving!” Jane retorted, motioning towards the traffic in front of them. She huffed. “The first time you bring a date to Stone’s stupid award nomination ceremony, you’re going to be late because of L.A.’s traffic from hell.”_

_Thomas choked at her words. “You’re not my date!” he immediately protested. “I’m bringing you there to introduce you to some of my old colleagues.”_

_“Whatever you say,” Jane cooed mockingly with a half-hearted shrug._

_He glared at her before turning his attention back to the cars in front of them. For the next few minutes, Jane continued sighing dramatically, filling the small car with her moans and groans, and muttering complaints under her breath. Knowing that she was only trying to get another rise out of him, he proceeded to ignore her the best he could._

_By the time she had caught on ten minutes later, they’ve barely moved a good half-mile. Thomas had a feeling that Jane was right and they wouldn’t be making it to the nomination ceremony in time. He watched her from the corner of his eyes as she sat up higher in her seat—now bored— and leaned towards him. Slowly, as if not to scare him, she reached out and ran her finger down the length of his cheek in a slow, calming manner._

_“What are you doing?” he asked her, reaching up to bat her hand away._

_“Shut up and drive,” she told him, ignoring his light smacks and continuing to stroke his cheek with a single finger. It was sending distracting tingles down his spine._

_“We’re not moving,” he responded, remembering her words from earlier. Thomas reached up again and grabbed a hold of her hand, twisting it until their fingers were interlaced before bringing it down so both their hands were resting on top of the center console. Her hand was small and smooth, a complete contrast to her fiery, hot-headed personality._

_She blinked at their interlocked fingers for a moment before looking up again and grinning. “I am so your date,” she said cheekily, relaxing against the back of her seat._

_“Be quiet, Jane,” Thomas half-heartedly replied, tightening his hold around her hand._

* * *

 

By the time Thomas got home, he was ready to call it a day. Unfortunately, he knew that he still had lessons to plan and papers to grade. He wasn’t the type to procrastinate on his work and didn’t plan on starting now. With a tired sigh, he loosened his tie from around his neck and threw his jacket over the armrest of a nearby armchair.

He sunk down into the couch, its comforting familiarity welcoming him like an old lover. With a slight yawn, he flipped through the mail he had picked up earlier, tossing them onto a nearby coffee table one by one. “Bills, advertisement, bills, magazines...” Thomas sighed. “An utter waste of paper,” he said with finality before tossing the entire pile away.

Hand lightly stroking the soft, slightly fuzzy surface of his couch, Thomas tossed his head back and closed his eyes. It wouldn’t hurt to take a short nap, he thought but knew that he couldn’t give into the temptation. He’ll just end up waking up the next morning if he took one now. If anything, he should at _least_ plan next week’s introduction lecture.

He groaned at the thought.

* * *

 

_Thomas woke up slightly disoriented with a weight on his chest and the feeling of soft bare breasts pressing down against his own. Opening his eyes and squinting at the bright morning light, he lifted his head and looked down, seeing only a rippling curtain of wild, thick hair but it was enough. His first instinct was to deny the obvious but Thomas knew who it was and what they had done the previous night; although it wasn’t planned, he wouldn’t call it a mistake._

_Not with her._

_Never with her._

_“Jane,” he said instead, falling back into the comfort of familiar, chiding words. “You better not be drooling on me.”_

_“I don’t drool,” she grumbled tiredly, reaching up with a lazy hand to push his head back down onto the couch. “Go back to sleep.”_

_He ignored her weak pushes and craned his head around to look at his living room wall clock. “It’s almost noon,_ get up!”

_“I don’t want to.”_

_“Jane,” he tried again but was ignored. With a sigh, he reached down and pressed his fingers into the softness of her sides._

_She immediately squealed in surprise, instinctively jerking away from the sudden onslaught only to lose her balance. He could feel her beginning to slide off of him but before Thomas could steady her, Jane had already gripped him hard around the arms, pulling him with her and sending them both tumbling to the ground below._

_“Ow!” she cried out sharply as he landed on top of her._

_He groaned and lifted himself until most of his weight was resting on his elbow and looked down at her. “We’re never having sex on the couch again,” Thomas told her, feeling a dull ache in his back._

_Jane blinked and then laughed, reaching up to hook her arms around his neck. “What about your desk? I’ve always wanted to try that.”_

_“No,” Thomas immediately answered even as she pulled herself upwards to press a kiss against his lips._

_Jane laughed again and pulled his head back down with her until his face was buried in the thick mass of her lavender-scented hair. It felt cool and soft against his skin and Thomas closed his eyes at the feeling, wanting to lay with her like this for a while longer despite his words from before. When he had woken up earlier, he had thought they would go through an awkward “morning after” phase but was glad that wasn’t the case._

_“I have to film in Istanbul next week,” Jane told him softly after a moment of comforting silence._

_Thomas opened his eyes._ “You?” _he asked. “They chose_ you _for that film?”_

_She huffed and pushed him up until he was looming over her again so she could stare him in the eyes. “Hey! This is my first big project out of the country,” she exclaimed. “Just shut up and be happy for me.”_

_Thomas smiled and wrapped his arms around her waist, enjoying the feeling of her smooth skin and hummed. He rolled them both around until she was laying on top of him again, her legs tangled with his own. “I’m_ always _happy for you.”_

* * *

 

Forcing himself up from the comfort of his couch, Thomas grabbed the two tabloid magazines that came in with his mail and mentally went over the outline of next week’s lesson plans. He usually assigned the acting project during the beginning of the semester but seeing how this year’s students were even more pathetic than usual, he had no choice but to delay it and hoped that his other assignments would help improve their acting skills. Unfortunately, he could no longer delay the assignment and hoped that when they present their projects, his eyes wouldn’t bleed from the sheer lack of talent.

“Perhaps I should invite a guest speaker,” he muttered quietly to himself, going through his personal list of actors and actresses.

Chris Winters was probably the best choice considering his age and obvious fame but Thomas wanted someone that he had taught before; someone that knew how he worked and what he expected out of his current students. With a sharp, exasperated exhale, Thomas made his way into his study and sat down, flipping open the tabloid magazine as he did so.

Flipping through the first few pages of the magazine, Thomas concluded that either he was really behind the current faces of Hollywood’s entertainment industry or the magazine’s standards had dropped since last month. Who _were_ all these unfamiliar faces?

Perhaps instead of old students, he should just invite an old colleague. But he had been teaching for so many years, he’s bound to come across someone successful that he could call up and—

He paused as a face came into view, his hand stilling.

Jane.

* * *

 

_“She’s amazing.”_

_Thomas looked over. “Pardon?” he asked._

_Priya nodded towards the large billboard hanging over the building across from them. “Jane. I honestly thought she was never going to get anywhere when we first met. I’ve never seen anyone rise up in the industry as fast as she did,” she elaborated before repeating, “She’s amazing.”_

_He looked up, sharp eyes taking in every detail of Jane’s face, enlarged and retouched onto the massive billboard. Thomas wondered if he should be worried that he knew exactly which part of her face they had digitally retouched and which part they had kept. Priya was right, despite her young age, Jane managed to get her face plastered on the billboard of Hollywood’s most popular area._

_“When is she coming back?” Priya asked him. “Next month,” he answered. Jane currently had so many projects, he could hardly keep up with them all. He wasn’t surprised though; from the moment she had stepped foot into his classroom, Thomas knew she would be going places. However..._

_However..._

_Looking up at the large billboard, Thomas could feel an ugly, inkling feeling of something he couldn’t quite explain forming from deep within his gut. He wondered when was the last time he had seen her in person._

* * *

 

Thomas trailed his finger down the outline of Jane’s cheek, frowning. All things considered, Thomas knew that he should know this face, that he should be completely familiar with it’s every curve and hollowed dips but no matter how long he stared at it—at her—it almost felt like he was staring into the face of a stranger.

A stranger.

Thomas blinked and ran his gaze up from the curl of her smile, the blush of her cheeks, the curve of her eyelashes, and finally, to the thick curtain of her hair. This should all be familiar to him, he realized, remembering he had once ran his fingers down the length of her face, slowly, sensually, wanting to memorize every detail. But...

But...

Who _was_ this stranger?

Thomas didn’t think he would ever associate Jane with the word ‘stranger’ but no better word could describe her now.

* * *

 

_“Thomas?”_

_He looked up at the unexpected voice. “Jane,” he greeted, standing up. “When did you get back? I thought you were filming in Italy?” It had been a couple of months since he had last seen her and it took him a while to take in her appearance but when he did, he realized exactly how much he had missed her. It was easy to forget when he had surrounded himself with work but now that she was in front of him..._

_Now..._

_“I finished,” she said._

_He moved towards her—wanting to feel her in his arms again—but stopped upon noticing the look on her face. “What’s wrong?”_

_“I have to film out of country next week. Spain, this time.” She didn’t meet his eyes._

_Thomas paused. “Again?” he asked before he could stop himself. Her head immediately snapped up in response, wide eyes meeting his and Thomas saw an unfamiliar vulnerability in her he didn’t know existed. He had to remind himself that while_ he _may have retired, Jane was still so very young; she was not even at the peak of her career._

_“I—I...” she stammered. “I’m sorry.”_

_“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I understand. I’ve been in the industry, I know how it works. Do not let anyone—especially me—hold you back.” He knew her potential, he encouraged her potential; hell, he was the one that helped develop it. The last thing he wanted was to be the one to hold her back._

_For a moment, he feared that his words might not get to her but she finally looked up again and graced him with a small, if not slightly sad-looking smile and nodded. “Okay,” she replied._

* * *

 

Once upon time, Thomas could close his eyes and mentally visualize the details of her face without a thought. Now, everything was a blur of skin and a smudge of black. And if he concentrated hard enough, he thought he remembered some blue in there too.

* * *

 

_Denmark was next._

_They tried calling each other as often as possible. Unfortunately, they both had busy schedules; the university was going through some sort of revolution and Jane was working on three projects at once._

_Daily calls turned to every other day, every other day turned to weekly, weekly turned to bi-weekly until they both had forgotten altogether._

* * *

 

For a single, brief moment, Thomas thought he remembered tinkling laughter, whispering touches, and butterfly kisses but the moment passed and there was nothing. Not even a hint.

He stared back down at Jane’s smiling face.

She was nothing but a stranger.

* * *

 

_Jane didn’t tweet much about what goes on in her personal life. Instead, she chose to use that particular social platform as a way of interacting with her fans—retweeting their tweets, responding to questions, et cetera—much to all their delight. So Thomas was surprised to see her tweet something seven months later when she returned to Los Angeles after half a year of filming and promoting her new movie._

What remains, _she had tweeted,_ when even memories begin to fade?

 _For a moment, Thomas wondered if she was talking about him and their relationship and then realized that he couldn’t remember the last time they had talked to each other. The thought hurt. They used to be so close, they used to have this... this..._ connection but now, _he could barely remember the details of her face._

_Thomas stared at the message for a while longer before he slipped his cellphone back into his pocket and picked up his coffee._

Nothing, _he thought in response._ Nothing remains. Nothing at all.

* * *

 

His gaze lingered on her face for another moment before looking up to read the article title. “Jane Doe,” he quietly read out loud, even her name was unfamiliar on his tongue. “Youngest actress to win Alliven’s Best International Actress Award.”

Knowing that she was an old student, Thomas wondered if he should congratulate her but then realized that it had been years since they had last talked, she had probably already changed her number. And unless he was rating something, he never tagged anyone in his tweets; there was no need to break that streak now.

_What remains when even memories begin to fade?_

Thomas sighed and closed the magazine shut before moving it out of the way. He had lessons to plan and a class to teach; Thomas had no time to dwell on the past. Besides, he still had last week’s papers to grade. So, realizing that he had already wasted enough time, Thomas continued to go down his mental list of actors and actresses and continued on his day.

**Author's Note:**

> **To me, the worst way to end relationships isn’t one-sided feelings or bad break-ups. In fact, it’s not even one of the person dying. The worst way to end a relationship is when two people that you know were _meant_ for each other, two people that you can’t see without the other, two people that were so very, very close just grow apart. They just stop talking and become strangers.**


End file.
